Sign of the Times
This is the time of the year; deer are in full rut. They leave signs throughout the woods and along the edges of the timber of their breeding activities. Bucks will find trees to rub their antlers to remove any remaining velvet and mark their territory as a sign to other bucks to stay away. The bucks also make scrapes that serve as a signpost to let does know they are in the area and for the does let the bucks know they are ready to breed. A scrape is a spot on the ground raked free of grass and leaves under an overhanging branch located four to six feet off the ground. In our area in southern Iowa, most scrapes are located on or near shingle oak trees. Both bucks and does will urinate on the bare patch of ground and using their front hooves, paw the ground enlarging the scraped area. They will also lick the overhanging branches and rub their faces on them to transfer sent. Several bucks may use the same scrape and all the does in the area will visit the site daily. An active scrape makes an
excellent spot to get unique deer photos. My wife and I have two cameras out on trails that are used on a regular basis. Saturday, we decided to put out another camera on a scrape to see how many bucks are in the area that we have not seen on the other cameras. When we headed out, it was sunny and cool but not cold. A sweatshirt was enough to keep a person comfortable. Crossing the dam, we saw the lonesome swan, still swimming around by himself. An osprey also swooped overhead, occasionally diving into the water. Most dives were unproductive, but we did see him catch a fish. We drove all over the farm, checking for scrapes and trying to decide on the best one to place
a camera. It was a nice day for a ride, and we saw several deer, squirrels, and one flock of turkeys. We finally decided to put the camera on a fresh scrape near
twin sluices. We could tell but the way the ground had been freshly turned, it had been visited in the past few hours. I aimed the camera at the licking branch of the shingle oak tree and moved away trying to disturb the area as little as possible. By the time we were making our way back to the house, the clouds were moving in, and light rain had started. We were lucky to have gotten our fresh air just in time.
This morning, while pouring
myself a cup of coffee, I glanced out of the kitchen window toward the shingle oak in the corner of the yard. There, under the tree, was a buck, licking a low branch and pawing the ground. We had driven several miles, all over the farm, looking for a fresh scrape for the camera. I never thought to look in the yard but that scrape is as fresh as they get. By the time I went back for another cup of coffee, the buck was gone and a couple of does were there, checking out the scrape and reading the sign left by the buck.
Just Dig
In August of 2023, I traveled to Texas to visit my sister Patti and brother-inlaw Bill. This was a different type of trip. I wasn’t sure what to expect, and yet I knew exactly what to expect. The feeling was bittersweet. I wanted to see Patti and Bill, but also knew this would be the last time I would see Bill. Bill was in the transitioning stage under Hospice care, his cancer was winning the battle, and soon he would take to his place in heaven. I was going to Texas to help my sister anyway I could in these final days of Bill’s time on earth.
When I arrived at their house, Patti told me several things I could do to help. Two particular directions stuck with me: “Don’t slam the microwave oven door,” Patti said. “It causes Bill to jump and wake up. And if you need something, please don’t ask me where it is, just dig. You can find it on your own.”
My sister Patti and I have a lot in common, and we have plenty of differences. We can debate and argue about things like what day of the week it is. On this trip I would go out of my way not to argue about anything with my sister; I would just do what I could to help her.
Patti’s very organized, I am not. It was my habit to ask for things like ‘Patti, where do you keep your…’
and she would always be able to tell me exactly where to find what I was looking for. Understandably, her mind was on Bill. When I would ask for something, she would answer, “dig.” If I told her I looked and couldn’t find something she would answer, “keep digging.” And so, I did, eventually finding what I was seeking. I helped where I could around the house, and especially with caring for Bill.
August 11, 2023, the Lord took Bill home. He passed at 4:34 in the morning. Even though Patti and I both knew it was coming, there was still a shock and disbelief - it was hard. I anticipated some difficult days of conflicting emotions; days of sadness and joy, solace, peace, and turmoil. Bill was no longer suffering, and for that we were grateful, yet still, a part of us was not ready to let go.
had a military service.
There is something about the guns firing a salute, and the hollow sounds of the bugle playing Taps in the distance, that cuts to the very core of ones being. As soldiers folded the flag, and presented it to Patti, I felt her loneliness. The reality set in again, Bill is no longer with us. Farewell Bill.
The next time I went to
flagpole came with a 2.5’X4’ flag, but it could handle a larger flag than other poles, so I ordered a 4’X6’ flag.
Patti would ask me almost daily, “When are you going to mount the flagpole?” I was taking my time, contemplating the project.
I wanted to plant a tree in Bill’s honor, but my sister wasn’t on board with that idea. (Yet.)
I stayed with Patti until the end of August to help her with projects around the house, also just to be there for her. I returned to Texas in October for Bill’s celebration of life. Bill had served in the Navy and
visit Patti was in March of 2024. Each time I visited, Patti would have a “list” of things for me to do. I looked over the list, and locked on to what I considered the most important task, to mount a flag pole in the front yard. “I ordered a flagpole,” Patti said, “but I’m not sure it’s what I want. I want an American flag that is regal.”
Each night Patti would take her dog Bronson for a ride on the golf cart. I would ride along while Patti showed me flags that she liked around the neighborhood. “You’re not going to be happy with the flagpole you have,” I told Patti. “It’s too scrawny.” When we got back to her house I packaged the pole for return.
Over the next few days, we looked at numerous flagpoles. Finally, we ordered a heavier one that came with a small gold ball for the top. The ball looked kind of cheesy to me, but it can be hard to tell from a picture online what you’re getting, so we ordered a different top for the pole. I also ordered a better solar lighting system so that we would have some options. The heavier
Finally, one day I placed a large flower pot in the front yard. “What’s the pot doing in the front yard,” Patti questioned. I explained it was where the flagpole should go. After a bit of discussion, we moved the pot this way, then that way, then the other way, and finally put the pot pretty much where it was to begin with. I went to the garage and loaded the wheelbarrow with a shovel, posthole digger and a few other tools. I chuckled as I pushed the shovel into the ground, “Dig!”
The installation directions said to dig a hole about twelve inches around and fifteen inches deep. After digging the hole, I didn’t feel it was good enough. I considered this flag and pole a memorial, or tribute to Bill for his service in the Navy, and I wanted it to withstand hurricane forced winds given the proximity to the Gulf of Mexico.
The soil was pretty sandy (less stable) and part of my plan to have a regal look was to use a larger flag, which would create a higher wind load on the pole. I imagined I heard Patti saying, “Dig,” and so I picked up the shovel. Soon the hole was what I wanted, 22” wide and 24” deep. It was time to mount the pole, but I wasn’t quite ready.
I went into the house and asked Patti for a memorial
folder from Bill’s celebration of life. Patti wanted to keep the few programs she had left. She was also concerned about me leaving enough time to finish the project. Without a program, I took a pen and paper and wrote a note: Someday, someone is going to take this flagpole down, but before you take it down, I want you to know for whom this pole was mounted. Bill Marshall, my brother-in-law was born September 3, 1950.
Bill was a veteran, a Lieutenant in the U.S. Navy, flying surveillance aircraft. He was married to my sister Patti for almost 40 years. They have two sons, Robb (Lynzey) and Ren (Lauren), and two granddaughters, Kathryn, and Ember. Bill was a Continental Airline Pilot for 30 years.
Bill was a good Christian, husband, father, grandfather, neighbor, and friend. He was a patriot who loved his country. He passed away August 11, 2023. This flagpole was erected March 18, 2024. The flag has been proudly flown in his memory since then.
When you take the flag down for the last time, please say a prayer for Bill, and all veterans who have served our country. I signed the note and put it inside three Ziplock bags to keep it dry. I scratched out a small indentation in the side of the hole, (just dig, right?) placed the baggie, and then positioned a piece of clay tile over the note before filling the hole with concrete.
It is my hope that someday down the road, when the concrete is removed from the earth, the time capsule will remain for someone to find and they too will know about Bill, for whom the flagpole was mounted.
To Lieutenant Bill Marshall, and all who served and protected this great nation, thank you, you are not forgotten. Happy Veteran’s Day.
